


Passage

by Synodic



Category: Transformers - All Media Types, Transformers: Prime
Genre: Egg Laying, Fingering, Oral Sex, Oviposition, Scissoring, Sex Toys, Sticky Sexual Interfacing, atypical interface arrays, laying eggs back and forth....forever, mild tentacles
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-25
Updated: 2016-04-25
Packaged: 2018-06-04 10:10:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,618
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6653701
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Synodic/pseuds/Synodic
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dreadwing and Breakdown partake in some egg play. It's a fun night for all.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Passage

**Author's Note:**

> i don't have an excuse for this pairing or this fic other than I like them LORG and full of eggs \o/

“You grounders know nothing of patience.” 

“Yeah, well you seekers don’t know scrap about hurrying up!”

Breakdown was scowling, his chassis heaving with exertion and teeth bared. The threatening image was ruined by a frustrated whine and a full-body wiggle, impatient and needy under Dreadwing’s heavy frame. The larger Decepticon chuckled, squeezing the hot, leaking panels under his hand, while the other cupped the swell of Breakdown’s middle, thick with round, soft fake eggs. The plating twitched, wanting to fly open and release the heavy pressure, but he held it tightly shut. Not yet. There was still time to play.

It was one of his favorite games, and one Breakdown was learning to both love and loathe in equal measure. 

“Fraggin’  _ tease _ !” He hissed, thick fingers scraping at rich blue shoulders as he bucked up, grinding into the touch just for the smallest, faintest bit of stimulation. 

“Only because I like how you look.” Dreadwing admitted easily, charmed by the way the grounder’s face flushed. And how could he resist when Breakdown bit his lower lip and moaned, arching his thick waist up against his cock pit? Dreadwing leaned in for a kiss that was decidedly less teasing than how he was molesting the space between his legs. His own frame was running hot, fans spinning at a dizzying pace, and it only got hotter as Breakdown bit as his mouth. It was a strange organic custom, but one the seeker had quickly learned to enjoy. 

With regret, he pulled away to look down at the panting, wanton Decepticon under his hands. He allowed himself one last admiring look at the thick swell of a gravid waist, one last squeeze, before he shuffled further down the berth. Breakdown, sensing that the game was about to progress, wiggled excitedly and spread his legs just a little further. “Yeah, yeah, c’mon!”

“Patience.” He hummed, nuzzling at his thigh. 

He lapped at some of the escaped lubricant, pressing wet kisses into the hot plating over Breakdown’s valve, soaking in the grounder’s quiet chants of ‘ _ oh frag, oh frag _ ’. 

The plating snapped open the moment he stopped holding it shut, and his next kiss was directly on the fat, puffy lips of Breakdown’s valve. The truck arched into it with a hoarse moan, feet scraping the metal of the berth. 

Breakdown’s valve was not  _ pretty _ , per se, but the seeker liked it all the same for (like the rest of his frame) how large its components were; from the fat, puffy lips of his valve, to the swollen nub large enough to rest on the tip of his tongue. Exterior nodes glowed, the raised bumps leading Dreadwing in a trail along the rim of his valve. The hard buck in reaction almost dislodged his mouth, but he would not be so easily deterred. 

Dreadwing wrapped his arms under Breakdown’s legs, taking a moment to squeeze and press against his swollen middle as he spread his fingers, holding the grounder still against the berth. The restraint left him at Dreadwing’s tender mercy, unable to do anything but let the seeker drink up the fluids that dribbled in excess from his valve, and suck at his slippery nub like he would the head of a spike. 

“Oh  _ frag-g-g-g-- _ ”

Breakdown clung to Dreadwing’s wrists almost hard enough to dent the metal, his vocalizer glitching around the curse as the charge finally mounted, toppling him into overload. The seeker struggled to keep his body still as he thrashed and trembled, valve gushing a wave of fluid. Dreadwing did not stop attacking Breakdown’s nub, sucking and licking at it until the grounder gave a heavy grunt and a gasp. This close, he could almost hear the seal popping deep at the apex of his valve. It was time to change things up a little. 

Breakdown panted, optic closed and frame slack when Dreadwing rose to his knees. 

“Do you need a moment?” He asked, stroking a thick, silver thigh. 

“Nah.” Breakdown licked his lips, looking back up at the seeker with a wolfish grin, “I’m more’n ready.” 

“Excellent.” 

Dreadwing helped the gravid mech roll to his side, situating himself between his legs, one hooked over his hip. It was an awkward shuffle at first, unsexy in the way the two large frames had to heave and shuffle, but then the lips their valves touched. Charge lept between nodes, making the both of them gasp. Breakdown was not in a position to do much of anything, so it was up to Dreadwing to start rocking, grinding his hips in slow circles. Another reason to love Breakdown’s valve; for all their size difference, the lips of their interface array were almost the same size, making them a perfect match. 

As charge mounted in Dreadwing’s own array, he felt his tentacles drop from their recesses in the wall of his valve. Carefully, the silvery cords slithered from one valve to the other, pressing and prodding at the slick walls just outside his own. Breakdown shuddered, plating rattling and valve clenching at the faint touches moving deeper inside his channel.The tentacles caressed and prodded at the top of Breakdown’s valve, slipping through the slow trickle of fluid that had been trapped in the mech’s construction chamber. 

Dreadwing and Breakdown moaned in unison as the tendrils massaged the small opening, gently coaxing it open wider. When it had expanded enough Dreadwing slipped one of the smaller ones through the opening, wiggling between the eggs and through the remaining dregs of the transfluid he’d left behind after he’d first stuffed them inside. 

He slowly inserted another, then another, easing the braid of tentacles in and out of the small opening like he would a spike through a valve. A quick glance to Breakdown and Dreadwing could tell that he was lost in the haze of pleasure, his frame struggling to function under the barrage of sensation. Good. 

The opening to his chamber suddenly relaxed, and Dreading grunted in surprise as the first egg moved into position, his tentacles almost crushed under the sudden weight. Dreadwing’s rocking against Breakdown’s plush valve grew more insistent, eager, hungry for the eggs that would be soon passed into his own body. They had grown from the small beads he’d placed in the mech, soaking in a combination of his and Breakdown’s fluids until there was no more room for them to expand. With a moan he withdrew his tendrils to the very edge of Breakdown’s interface, ready to guide the toys up along his own channel. It required he hold still, and it was almost impossible to stop himself. 

Breakdown whined at the loss, clearly feeling the same way. The keening deepened in pitch until it was a long groan; the first egg was emerging into the top of his channel, stretching him wider than Dreadwing’s spike ever had. The grounder reached for his hand, fumbling until he had a good grasp of it. His mouth fell open in silence, robbed of sound as his valve fluttered and clenched, holding the egg just barely out of Dreadwing’s reach as his second overload crashed through him. 

The charge ebbed, freeing both Breakdown’s vocalizer and the egg, which slipped right into the grasp of his tentacles. Dreadwing moaned deep in his chassis as the tendrils worked to pull the egg up into his valve, then beyond into his egg sac. The weight of it settling inside of him almost drew him into his first overload, and he greedily ushered the second one in. 

Breakdown cursed and moaned his way through another overload, then a fourth-- Dreadwing lost track the moment his first one hit, sparking along his heavy frame like he’d been struck by lightning. Somewhere along the line he’d started holding onto Breakdown as well, and it was his only thing mooring him to the present instead of being lost in the waves of pleasure and the smell of ozone. 

The last egg settled heavy in his sac, leaving Breakdown empty and sagging with exhaustion. Dreadwing was not so fortunate, and he growled in frustration. Charge still licked at his frame, but there was nothing left for Breakdown’s frame to give, leaving the seeker empty and lacking satisfaction. 

All the same, he gently kissed the back of Breakdown’s knuckles before letting go, easing his leg down to the berth. The grounder, half in shutdown already, patted at the berth beside him. 

“C’mere. Kiss me and use your fingers.”

It was a wonderful idea, and Dreadwing was quick to slump over gracelessly. He snuggled up to him chest to chest, his fingers immediately seeking and plunging into his slick valve, pumping in and out as Breakdown set about sucking at his tongue and nipping his lips. 

A large hand cradled his face as he moaned into Breakdown’s mouth, optics shut in concentration. He was so close-- just a little more--

Breakdown’s other hand wandered down his frame before slipping between his legs, and the sudden addition of two fingers beside his own is finally enough. The overload that washed through him was gentler than the others, but no less intense, and he rode it out with his head burrowed in Breakdown’s neck.

With a last shudder his frame went limp, and for a long moment neither of them moved, chassis heaving and fans struggling to keep up with the heat. 

After a moment, “Sure is a good thing I’m not on shift tomorrow. I’m not sure I’m gonna be able to move from this berth.”

Dreadwing smirked, feeling much the same. His frame was inordinately heavy and it was a struggle to rearrange himself into a more comfortable position.

“I’m sure we can find something to occupy ourselves.” 


End file.
